


come home.

by angelsprunch



Series: tumblr requests [7]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Dissociation, M/M, Oneshot, Self Harm, Suicide Attempt, stan uris takes a bath, there's a hapyp ending ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 14:43:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13592301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsprunch/pseuds/angelsprunch
Summary: stan is struggling but he's scared to ask for help.





	come home.

**Author's Note:**

> please send in oneshot requests to my tumblr @ fairyling !!

“Richie, it’s all getting too hard.” Stan mumbled, face half buried in Richie’s horrendous Hawaiian shirt. Richie sighed and wrapped one of Stan’s tightly coiled curls around his finger. This time Stan didn’t swat his hand away and Richie knew that Stan was really getting close to the end of his rope.

“What if I take the day off tomorrow? I can stay home with you and we can just… spend the whole day together? It’ll be nice. I’ll make you laugh. You’ll forget about all of the stuff going on in that pretty little head of yours. It’ll be a good day. I’ll even get up early so we can go bird watching like you like.” he offered, shifting on the couch in an attempt to get Stanley to lift his head so Richie could look at him.

When Richie moved, Stan moved with him and hid his face in the crook of Richie’s neck. “You can’t miss work. We have bills to pay.” Stan said, breath tickling Richie’s neck. 

“We owe Big Bill money?” Richie asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Stan laughed softly and finally pulled away to look at Richie.

“No, moron. We have to pay rent and the phone bill. Also since you eat fucking everything we have to buy food. I feel like I’m paying to take care of a toddler sometimes- Hey!” Stan shouted when Richie’s fingers started poking at his sides. Eventually Richie’s attack ended and Richie ended up laying on top of Stan. Stan relaxed under Richie and he closed his eyes as Richie’s moved to take off his glasses.

Stan let him lay like that for a while, focusing on the warmth coming from Richie’s body. Richie’s breathing evened out and Stan knew that his boyfriend had fallen asleep. Stan closed his eyes and tried to think about the happy things in his life. There were plenty of things to be happy about but his mind kept drifting back to the things that bothered him. The ring of scars around his face and the feeling of nothing ever being enough was suffocating. Stan turned his face to the side and he wondered how Richie could look at him with anything other than disgust due to the scars circling his face.

He also began to wonder how Richie was able to put up with all of his habits. One time Richie had tried to fold a basket of laundry for Stan to try and help out with the chores and Stan refolded the entire thing because Richie had done it wrong. There were few things that Richie did around the house that Stan didn’t micromanage. Part of him felt bad for how much he micromanaged Richie, but the few times that he let it slide he felt like his skin was on fire. Richie never seemed to mind and when a slew of apologies left Stan’s lips, Richie kissed them away.

Stan opened his eyes and realized that the room had gone dark. The sun must have set while they lied here and Stan wondered how long he was in his own thoughts. With a sigh he gently shook Richie awake. “Get off of me you oversized koala. You always get grumpy when you sleep on the couch.” Stan mumbled, kissing Richie’s cheek. He earned a groan from Richie, but the taller boy pushed himself up into a sitting position.

“I’m going to do something special for you tomorrow. I want you to feel special. I want you to know what you mean to me. I want you to know how proud I am of you for making it this far.” he said as he moved to pick Stanley up so he could carry him to bed. Stan rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to say something. Before any words could get out, though, Richie nearly tripped over his own feet in the dark. Richie laughed and straightened up. “Wow, I’ve got good reflexes. We didn’t go down.” he said as he carried them to the bedroom.

The next morning, Stan was woken up by the noise of Richie going through the drawers of his dresser. Stan rubbed his eyes and sat up, allowing his eyes to adjust to Richie’s figure in the dark. Richie turned around and walked towards Stan. His hands cupped Stanley’s cheeks and Stanley flinched away. Richie let go with a frown, but still leaned in to kiss Stanley’s forehead. “Go back to sleep, baby. I’m just getting ready for work.” 

Stan frowned, but laid back down and let Richie pull the blanket back around him. Stan usually woke up before Richie and he was the one that made sure Richie woke up on time to be at the station in time. It made him feel a bit disconnected. His head felt heavy and his tongue felt numb. Richie kissed Stan’s cheek and went back to get his clothes so he could change out of his pajamas. Stan closed his eyes and rolled over onto his side while Richie got ready in the dark. Just as Stan was starting to drift off to sleep again, Richie’s lips were on his temple. “I’ll be back around ten, baby.” he whispered and Stan heard their bedroom door shut followed by the door to their apartment opening and shutting.

Stan laid in the dark for a while and he wasn’t sure if it was because his thoughts had him paralyzed or if the thought that he went off schedule was enough to pin him to his bed. Eventually, Stan got up and ran some water for a bath. The water was running and Stan lit some candles to try and keep a relaxing atmosphere. He felt like he was watching himself do this rather than actually going through the motions. While the tub filled, Stan picked Richie’s dirty clothes off the floor and put them in the hamper by the door. He then stripped his own pajamas and put them in the hamper as well. He grabbed his phone from the night table and unplugged the charger before going back into the bathroom.

Submerged in the water, Stan tried to focus on what he had planned that day. His schedule was already thrown off but he could hear Richie’s soothing voice in his head saying that it would all be okay. Pausing for a moment, Stan checked the time on his phone. There was still two hours before Richie would be home. With a few taps, Stan could hear Richie’s voice coming from his cellphone. He was listening to the radio show while he washed his hair and Richie’s voice was the only thing keeping him from reaching out for the razor sitting on the ledge of the tub. 

Richie’s voice faded out as a song started to play and Stan bit the inside of his cheek hard. It was getting harder and harder. Stan reached for his phone once again after drying his hands on the soft towel by the tub. He sent a quick text to Richie and moved to submerge his head under the water.

Stan: Come home. Now.

Richie: Is everything okay?  
Richie: What’s wrong?  
Missed Call from Richie (2)  
Richie: Stan, answer the fucking phone  
Richie: Why do we pay a phone bill if you don’t ANSWER  
Missed Call from Richie (3)

Stan heard his phone vibrating but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He couldn’t bring himself to reach out for it to answer it or type out a text. There was nothing to do to calm Richie’s nerves. It started to vibrate once more and Stan’s arm jerked, bumping the device off of the ledge of the tub. He watched as it fell face down on the floor but he couldn’t bring himself to be upset about it. Stan didn’t know how much time passed before he reached out for the razor sitting on the ledge. He felt oddly calm as he stared at it. It was a safety razor because Richie wanted to try something new, but it looked like it hadn’t been used.

The front door to the apartment opened and there were footsteps as Richie checked the bedroom. It was empty and Richie’s heart dropped to his stomach. Stan didn’t hear the noises of his boyfriend walking around the apartment as he stared at the blade with a bizarre sense of hope. Richie walked into the bathroom just as Stan was bringing it to his wrist.

“Stan, I swear to fucking God.” Richie’s voice shook as he stared at Stan. He seemed frozen in the doorway as he watched his boyfriend. Stan glanced from his wrist, pale and unscarred, to his boyfriend, pretty and sad. He felt something tugging at his heartstrings, but he still felt this disconnect. It didn’t feel real. Richie wasn’t standing in the doorway of the bathroom of their small apartment. Richie was at work, doing some prank call with his pretty co-host. His pretty co-host that didn’t have ugly scars surrounding her face. Richie was laughing with her and she was telling him how funny he was. Telling him how much she loved his voices while she touched his arm. Something that Stanley never did.

“This isn’t real. I don’t feel real. I want to feel something.” he mumbled. Stan was still for three more seconds before he moved and he felt a stinging pain in his arm. Richie yelled and Stan heard his sneakers squeak on the tile of the bathroom.

“No!” Fingers grasped around his wrist and the blade fell into the tub. There was a steady stream of red and the water was slowly turning pink. Not much happened, though, because arms were wrapping around Stan’s body and Richie was pulling him out of the tub. He didn’t even bother with the towel and he held Stan tightly against him. Stan frowned when he realized that he was getting Richie’s clothes wet. He was making a mess of the bathroom. He was being dirty.

He was vaguely aware of Richie crying while he shrugged off his Hawaiian shirt. It was Richie’s favorite because it was one of the few ones that Stan didn’t hate. He tied it tightly around Stan’s wrist and carried him to the bedroom. This time he didn’t stumble with Stan in his arms. Richie set him on the bed and moved to get clothes from the dresser for Stan. He helped Stan into a pair of sweatpants and one of Richie’s sweatshirts. “I don’t– What do I do?” Richie said helplessly, sitting by Stan’s feet. His hand rested on Stan’s knee and there were drops of tears on Richie’s glasses. “Do I call Eddie or do I take you to a hospital?”

All he got was silence from Stan as he stared at how the sweatpants hung from him. He hadn’t realized how much weight he had lost. Apparently this had taken a toll on his appetite as well. Richie sighed and shot a text to Eddie who loved one floor up with Mike. It took seven minutes for Eddie to be seated on the bed beside Stan and unwrapping his arm with careful fingertips. Stan thought that there was a joke about seven minutes in heaven somewhere in there, but he remained silent. Eddie had a first aid kit beside him and he was silent as he butterflied the wound and wrapped Stan’s arm with gauze.

“He needs to see someone. Not for the cut, that’ll be fine. He’s going to get a scar, but it’ll be fine. He needs to talk to someone. Happy people don’t do this. Functioning people don’t do this.” Eddie explained in a hushed voice to Richie. They were standing in the doorway and Richie kept casting worried glances over at Stan. Stan laid back down on the bed and brought his knees to his chest. Richie nodded and thanked Eddie for helping them. He gave Eddie a quick hug before he moved to climb back on the bed.

“I could have stayed home. You could have talked to me. Why, Stanley?” Richie whispered as he pulled Stan into his arms. His grip was tight around his boyfriend as if he was scared that he was going to slip away at any moment. “I care about you. I can’t lose you. Please… let me in.”

Stan was quiet for a while before he rolled over to face Richie. He brushed away Richie’s tears with the sleeve of his sweatshirt before taking his glasses and setting them on the night table. He rested his head on the pillow beside Richie and took one of his hands in his own. “I don’t feel like myself anymore. I don’t– Everything feels wrong. I’m scared to ask for help, but I think I need help.” he finally admitted. 

Richie watched with a frown and he leaned in to kiss Stan’s forehead before brushing away tears that he hadn’t realized had fallen. “Whatever you need, Stanley. Whatever you need, I’ll make it happen.”


End file.
